If the winners were adorned with paper hats,
while precious medals hung out for consolations,
will we sleep in for the gold or march on for glory?
If one door stayed locked but one laid bare,
open full of riches for as far as the eyes can see,
will we run to the treasure or yearn for the mystery?
Is it supine to take a detour that definitely leads to home,
or foolish to keep running, searching for the victory horns to blow?
What if home just isn’t enough anymore?
But then again, on the other lane,
what if there never came a finish line?
Where are these boundaries,
that mark when contentment turns to indolence,
when hope turns to greed and vanity?
Has anyone got the answer,
to blissfully tread onto a road of rose,
or succumb to the allure of the closed doors?